Frost hidden in the Shadows
by Saro2775
Summary: Professionalism was the name of the game - until her most recent contract made everything go hay way. I suck at summaries, sorry. Anyway - eventual (non-icest) Elsanna, Mature themes (including lemon in later chapters), swearing, violence. Read and review please - I'm happy for every kind of feedback. Hope it won't become too OOC.
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

* * *

Thursday, 14th of December, around ten o'clock in the night. Location: downtown Graz, Austria. For hours she'd been laying on the roof of a building, far away from where her target was. But there was a window, just large enough to see through the scope.

„_See 'im?"_

Her handler, a tall red-headed man with distinguished sideburns was disguised as a staff member of the opera. He was in the same room as her target and told her where her target was sitting.

„_Of course. Leave it to me."_came her curt, emotionless answer.

„_Good luck, 56."_

The assassin took a deep breath and pulled the trigger.

For one second nothing happened – and then all hell broke loose. The audience was staring in awe at the stage during Beethoven's ninth Symphony. The iconic big bang sounded through the opera when one of the guests fell out of his seat in the first row, struck by a shot through the head. The man was dead in an instant. There was no sign of the killer in the audience nor the close vicinity of the crime scene.

The victim, Edward Fornicle, had been an influential member of the financial scene in New York City. His climb to the top of the ladder wasn't entirely... undoubted. Most people assumed he bribed officials to get to his position – also, many people connect him to the mysterious death of three competitors. On the surface, he was a loving family father who had a fable for classic cars and was very fond of good drinks and food, particularly scotch and steak respectively. He also adored the great minds of the Viennese classic. Of course, when he heard about the world-renowned Vienna Symphony Orchestra would be visiting Austria's second largest city and bring glory to Beethoven's unforgettable movements, he couldn't resist to book a flight.

But alas, his visit to Graz should be the last thing he ever did – in his home, he seemed to have made the wrong friends and right foes, rivals and politicians alike. They wanted him dead. And dead he was. When the people surrounding him realized that much and saw the blood pooling around his head, they started to scream and storm out of the room in panic.

"_Nice shot. Get the hell out of there, I don't know how but it's already buzzing with the fuzz. I'll leave it to your creative mind. Stay safe."_

"_Will do. See you then." _She turned off her ear-plug. 56 was on her own now. She closed her eyes for a second to gather her thoughts before recalling her three rules. Rules that saved her butt more times one could count and got her to the position of one of The Company's top assassins.

**Rule number one – don't get spotted.**

Well, this rule wasn't particularly hard to follow. Quickly moving away from her shooting position, the blonde haired woman deconstructed her muffled sniping rifle and hid the parts in an unused ventilation shaft. Her location was the roof of an uninhibited house that was currently being renovated. She took the logical way down – the scaffolding. Her suit was skin tight, which allowed fast, precise and, most importantly, almost silent movements since there was almost no cloth that could wrinkle audibly or anything like that.

After hitting the floor of a dark, tight alley way, she saw exactly what she needed – a female police officer, roughly estimated to be her size but with a wider, sturdier frame. It didn't matter, the Uniform would fit – just so, but it would. Now, Austrian police officers weren't all that known for fast arrival in her line of work, but there was a lot of them stationed outside, since the premiere of this particular arrangement was being visited by leading people from across the world.

Checking the situation and relying on her experience, the assassin silently picked up an empty bottle – there was a lot of them around the garbage container nearby. Beer and builders – an inseparable couple.

Aiming carefully, she threw the bottle into a corner with as much force as possible. The glass shattered audible and, exactly as planned, the police officer's voice could be heard.

„_The __hell__? __Who's there?"_ No answer. The lady cop wrinkled her brows before shouting _„__Cap'n, I'm investigatin__' something__."_ over her shoulder. Her colleagues grunted something but didn't join her.

Quickly hiding in the container's shadow, the killer was waiting until the officer had passed her. When the police officer passed the dumpster, the blonde internally cursed – the woman about to be nice enough to lend her her uniform had short cropped brown hair. Even the dumbest moron could figure out that a woman with long, braided blonde hair wasn't the same person as the police officer. And then all hell would break lose – even more than it just started to do. Right now, the first of the opera's guests stormed out, shrieking about a homicide.

_My timing is impeccable_\- she just couldn't keep the sarcasm from her thoughts.

Quickly hatching a plan, the woman separated from the shadows and started to tail her target. Carefully watching her steps through her ballet shoes, the professional killer soon was within arms length to the police woman who just bent down to check out the disturbance. She was utterly unaware of the woman behind her until her neck got wrapped by a strong arm and a gloved hand was pressed against her mouth. The palm of 56's right glove was drenched in chloroform which showed almost immediate effect.

Her muscles flexed in a reaction of her nerves and she tried everything to break free at first, but the woman attacking was stronger and the police officer's body got limp once she had inhaled enough anesthetic. She wasn't dead, merely knocked out for a couple of hours.

**Rule number two – no unnecessary casualties.**

The alley provided plenty of shadows to change and hide the unconscious woman. Mustering her strength and getting a good hold, the professional heaved the woman on her shoulders. She was heavier than expected, but manageable. The nearby dumpster was going to be the police officer's bed for a while. Thankfully, it didn't take long to don the uniform on herself.

The great thing about having a bodysuit as working clothes was that you could always wear something on top of it and don't have to worry about hiding your garments.

She always felts some sort of pity for the police woman who was lying there, hidden in scraps of paper. Not only would she feel the shame of being overwhelmed by the very criminal she was supposed to catch, no, she would also wake up in her pants and bra, covered in trash. She closed the lid of the dumpster following her last and probably most important rule.

**Rule number three – if possible, hide any body.**

56 moved to the ladder again, as silently as possible.

"_Yo, Tina, found something?"_

_Shit. Alright, whatever you do, don't fuck this up._

Thankfully, the policeman didn't walk over or else her cover would've been blown the police officer's voice the best she could, she grunted an answer. On a whim, she decided to tell the policeman who called out to her that she was going to check the roof. And she got lucky again – it didn't seem like she was being followed.

Climbing the ladder proved to be annoying - the uniform was at least two numbers larger than her normal clothes, so it slobbered a great deal.

Well, she had to find a way to pass the cops anyway, on roofs or solid ground. Once she was in the middle of the fuzz' main force, she could just meld with the crowd and make her way to somewhere she could hide, but it was still a long way to go. Her new „colleagues" would spot her for sure, but a different batch of cops...

Checking her surroundings, she cursed when she noticed one branch of the alley ending in a place which was now swarming with policemen since it was so close to the crime scene. But then again, that meant that there were now less cops than there were before. The other branch that lead down continued to lead away from the fuzz, but there were some cops stationed as well. Looking around, she found no safe and fast way to get where she needed to be. And time was running low. It wouldn't take all too long for a cop to come looking for the knocked-out officer. And if the cops were no complete idiots, it wouldn't take long to figure them out that the woman on the roof was not a policewoman.

_Guess I have no choice. I don't like it, but..._

Standing on top of the abandoned building, she thought about taking her rifle with her before it would be found. Though, most likely, not too long after she was gone and the number of police officers had somewhat thinned out, one her Company's people would come and pick up the tool. Hell, he or she most likely was already blend in with the police and watched her step to know where she hid the weapon.

The assassin meanwhile walked up to the roof edge and took of the glove on her right hand.

She was a gifted individual. Some weird genetic mutation gave her temporary control over ice. To be exact, she could materialize ice, and it's various shapes and appearances from her hands. She could also instantly disassemble the crystals, causing the ice to disappear again if she so wished. While this gift made her one of the, if not the best, at what she did, her power came with a few downsides – immense fatigue, extraordinaire hunger that could only be allayed by chocolate, and an insane headache, which kicked in around one hour after she used her supernatural ability. These downsides were the reason she very much preferred to do things the classic way. She herself saw her control over the cold element as her ace-in-the hole, and used it as such – once every dozen contracts, if at all.

Standing on the roof edge, she carefully squatted down and put her bare right on the cold stone of the wall. When the first crystals started to appear on the surface, she took her hand off the wall and did a slow and sweeping gesture to the wall across the urban canyon. When the connection was established, she closed her hand into a tight fist, solidifying the ice and thus making it capable of bearing her weight. The assassin had to keep her hand clenched together all the time or the crystals would lose their tight connection again, so the balance act across the drop was going to be a slow and careful one - she had to watch her step, be careful about making noise and keep her concentration on her summoned ice as well all the time.

„_Alright, here goes."_

With delicate steps she started walking down the icy path. She added an attribute to her, as she called it, central, in her head which commanded the ice to be a bit rough in hopes her grip would improve. Still, ice being ice, it was slippery business – she might have control over ice, but nevertheless she lost to nature's laws.

She was halfway across the way when she heard noises from down below.

_Fucking hell._

The hit man had messed up her timetable – the cops had already found the woman in the dumpster. Granted, she was gone way to long to just look for the source of a shattered bottle. The commanding police officer was barking orders and, savvy from years of experience, told his colleagues to keep an eye open for someone unfamiliar walking around in a police uniform. Matters got worse when she heard the voice of the policeman from before.

"_She's on the roof!" _

The sniper hurried her steps. When she was close enough, she jumped off the ice bridge, opened her fist, causing the ice to lose a lot of it's tension. Next, she pulled off her left glove and smacked her bare skin against the ice. Usually, she had to put it on the ice slowly to melt it after a few seconds. However, she recently discovered that, when she smacked her palm on he surface and applied pressure, the ice would shatter.

There were no policeman under the bridge, all were swarmed out, looking for her. She shattered the bridge and it came crushing down onto the alley from. Screams of surprise and shock were heard, granting the assassin hopefully enough time to get off the roof and mingle with the people on the main street before looking for a hideout for the next days.

She looked down the roof on the streets from her new point of view. It didn't take her long to figure out where she needed to head. She started walking on the rooftops, fast but silent. The assassin got worried though when she had to cross a copper roof – when you had to deal with metal, it was tough to be silent. Luckily though, there was no police nearby. Various of the buildings she was walking on had connections to inner yards, but many of them were sealed off – however, she knew of one that had no gate. The buildings enclosing this space belonged to various shops and a doctor. But most importantly, there was a tree that she could use to climb down on. The courtyard was open to towards the streets as well. 56 stopped when she was sure no one was following her anymore and took off the police uniform before continuing to head for her target.

The city was alive, even late in the evening – or especially lively for it was the start of weekend. Graz was a city with good universities and students loved to celebrate, so there were plenty of people roaming the streets. The noise and chattering from a dozen nearby clubs and pubs could be heard. The assassin still ran along on the roofs, but took a look around. She couldn't help but resist a smile on the perspective of spending a few days in this city until things had cooled off and she would meet her handler for her next assignment. It was quite a lovely city with a unique charm.

Her concentration snapped back on escaping safely though when she found the yard she had in mind. She'd been there once in the night already, depositing a new outfit for plan B – which she ended up using. Glancing down if there was somebody, she saw no one - the coast was clear. The tree was standing in the center of the small area. Taking a few steps back, the assassin started to run and jumped off the roof edge. She caught one of the stronger branches and instantly started to climb down. She was well out of the danger zone of immediate police contact for now.

She hit the ground and dusted her skintight suit off, using a nearby shop window as mirror.

56 sighed in relieve when she found the bag she hid the day before. In it was a pullover and sweatpants along with sneakers. When she threw them on, she looked like as if she was merely out for a late jog. There were other clothes and things such as shower gel and toothpaste for daily life in it – she'd be needing them for her staying.

Her platinum blonde hair was still strictly braided backwards and had almost no loose strands. The assassin's eyes were as blue as the ice she could summon. Her cheekbones were rather high, though her cheeks were round and soft, giving the impression of a normal, very beautiful young girl – which she essentially was, except for her profession, prowess with hand-to-hand combat and guns and total lack of social life.

Content with her looks, she took the bag with her, left the yard and entered one of Graz' main streets. Some police was roaming this city in the evening. Graz had a very pretty surface, but beneath it were lots of bands of thieves, drug deals, break-ins and domestic violence. The police did a pretty well job to keep the city relatively safe nevertheless though.

She walked down the old town, not paying much attention to her surroundings. She could go sightseeing all she wanted the next days. Her goal was the main square. She'd get on one tramway leading to the central station – there was a hotel nearby known for being rather popular with travelers.

She passed people who were chatting and laughing, many of them young and obviously drunk. Even in the open air, some of them had a decent smell of alcohol. Many of them, most likely students, were talking in English or other foreign languages – like the rest of Austria, Graz was rather multicultural, whether it wanted to be or not. Some of the lads shot her a glance and she attracted one or two whistles due to her beauty, but she paid them no heed. She stopped next to the station. The tramway didn't take long to appear. It was a modern vehicle and almost empty.

The assassin entered and a mechanical voice appeared and confirmed that she was, indeed, on the right train. The train started moving and the city passed her.

Before she knew it, she'd arrived at a railway station which, while very well thought out and designed, clashed horribly with the renaissance city due to it's modernity. She got off the train and headed up the nearby stairs – the actual stops for tramways were subterranean while those for buses were on the surface. The central station was a turntable for both local public transport, regional transport and international trains. It also hosted various shops, obviously aimed at travelers.

Leaving the moving staircase, the hit man headed to the left on a deserted walkway for a few dozen meters until she stood in front of the hotel she was aiming for. It seemed average on the outside, but due to the proximity to Graz' main traffic hub, it was nevertheless well frequented.

When she entered the building, she was surprised that nobody besides her and an obviously bored clerk were present. Then again, it was in the middle of night on a Friday evening, of course no one would roam the lobby of the hotel they were staying in. He was reading a magazine but looked like he was about to fall asleep when the assassin walked up to him. He turned his attention to her, blinked a few times and turned his head down again.

„_How can I be of service to you?"_ His German was laden with a very thick Austrian accent. Luckily, her instructors back in her starting days had been very knowledgeable. She spoke almost a dozen languages and was able to translate many dialects to their respective standard language.

„_I'd like to have a room for a few days, please."_ She didn't bother to cover up that German wasn't her mother's tongue. She had a slight Scandinavian accent which made her German sound a bit weird.

„_40 bucks a day. How long?"_ Now that she was closer to the desk, the clerk looked at her with more attention now – after all, it wasn't everyday that a Scandinavian hottie was standing in front of this middle-aged man.

„_Let's say five days for now. Oh, and please – I value my privacy. Tell your charwomen not to clean my room. I'm ready to pay more if necessary."_ Her tone was polite, though she put emphasis on the word privacy. The Clerk didn't miss the intonation. He eyed her carefully, but she held his glance with frosty eyes. In the end, he just shrugged and turned around.

„_Whatever__. Room's the first on __right once you get off the elevator. T__hird floor. Need anything, just call."_ He handed her the keys to her room.

„_As a matter of fact, there is already something you can do for me – Is there, by chance, a guide to this city? I'm here for some sightseeing and want to see the charms of the city."_

„_Sure is. It's already in the room. For some reason, this right here is a fairly popular hotel for travelers."_ He shrugged again and continued to read his papers.

She thanked the clerk and walked over to the elevators. The elevator was already at ground floor. The assassin got into the cabin and pressed the button for the third floor. Getting into motion, the cabin rattled before moving upwards. As soon as the door opened with a bing sound, 56 stepped out of the cabin, headed to the door lettered with 3 and entered her room. She closed the door before losing her cool all of a sudden, charged to the mini bar and almost tore off the door closing the small fridge.

She overcast the side effects of her supernatural abilities as soon as they hit her since she was still on the job, but now she almost died from hunger while fighting the strong urge to vomit due to the severity of her headache.

Searching frantic, she found some chocolate in the mini bar. Not nearly enough to cover up – for the time being however, she had to be happy with what she got. Ripping the wrapping off the chocolate bars, she shoved them down her throat as soon as possible. 56 plopped on the floor, leaned back against the bed and started to rub her temples with her left hand. Her right scrabbled in her bag in search for **very **strong headache pills. The hit man threw in two at a time and swallowed them with a swig of water when the phone in her bag ran.

"_Excellent Job, Elsa. Our client was very pleased."_ Her chef was on the phone. He was a man she'd never seen before and never ever want to meet in person. She killed for him, he paid her. That was all.

" _'course __he__is__. I was the hit man."_ Elsa really didn't have the nerve to deal with him so she made it short.

"_Your payment had been transferred to your account. You have four days off, enjoy them – but be prepared. The next target is an acquaintance of ours."_

"_You tell me to kill, I kill. Who is it?" _Despite her professional words, she tensed. Personal jobs were never good – or easy to pull off.

"_Your handler. He left the country without my consent, took something precious from me and now is in hiding. Of course we already know where he is. Get him."_

"_Isn't killing him a bit much...?"_

"_Kill him. He endangers me, The Company, even you. You will get to him, you will kill him and you will bring me back what is mine. Are we clear, miss Frost? You know I can have you erased if I need to – just as we need to erase Hans Black. You or him – you have no freedom to decline."_

"_...I do your bidding."_

The connection cut off. Elsa's headache intensified. Her handler, Hans, was most likely the only thing she had that resembled something of a friend or a confidante. But if he betrayed The Company, for whatever reason, he had to die – to protect The Company and Elsa herself.

The young woman got up, headed for the bathroom and undressed. She needed to clear her head and get ready. And water, the colder the better, always helped her ease her headaches.

Her name was Elsa Frost, codename 56. She was an Assassin.

* * *

"_Hans! Tell me this instant – WHERE ARE WE GOING?"_

"_Somewhere safe, Anna. Trust me."_

"_it's not easy to trust someone who speeds down a highway at a hundred eighty miles an hour!"_

They raced down the highway. Hans pushed his black Aston Martin to the limits, the V12 screeching at well over 7000 RPM. He had it all planned out. He knew that Elsa was coming for him. But to prevent Anna from damage, to have a life similar to Elsa, she had to disappear. Anna and him would hide for a few days before Elsa would come to kill him. But he knew her better than anybody. She would ask him why he betrayed The Company. He would tell her, and be able to convince her to take Anna to safety. He knew Elsa was sick of killing people. Both of them could have a new life. It all started a while ago. He always knew he was Anna's brother, a lot older than her but still her brother.. She, however, didn't know who he was.

In fact, it was him to blame for her situation. Him, who was so stupid to slip her name once. He was out and drinking when he slipped her name. They came to pick her up from the orphanage the same night. And last year he had been diagnosed with terminal lung cancer – at the age of merely thirty-five. He decided to sort everything out before he kicked the bucket. And hey, better be killed quickly than die slowly and miserably in the hospital.

"_I won't let them lay their insane fingers on you any more. You suffered enough already with them experimenting on you."_

The redhead was startled. She always got along fairly well with the handsome man, but she never knew he cared so much about her. He was right, she had suffered. Brutal training and medical experiments where the norm for her, but she got used to it. The Company got a hold of her when she was merely twelve years old and endured the abuse for six years already. However, she would _not_ get used to the idea of Hans sacrificing himself to give her a change to disappear.

"_Hans. Stop right now. You're going to die, they will send someone after you."_

"_I already am dead. Just know – 56 will protect you from The Company."_

He floored the accelerator some more and the British car went even faster.

* * *

**A/N:**  
Well, I just felt like writing something different, something more (potentially)... sinister?

I had the idea for a while now, ever since I played Dishonored and hit man:Absolution (that one was obvious tho, wasn't it? With the codename and all). I just loved these games and have a thing for stories around assassins for starters, so yeah. Also, I know there's some great great crime-Fanfics (Stolen Ice for example is epic), but an Assassin!Elsa one? Dunno, haven't seen one yet.

In any case, I hope you enjoyed it, if you did, please please PLEASE review! Don't worry, I won't stop with The Nerd and The Fitness Nut, but I just had a pretty... meh week at work and yeah, want something different.

See you guys, thanks for the reviews, follows and favorites beforehand :P

Oh and... sorry, couldn't resist the location ***blushes***  
Saro

PS: 56 = EF = Elsa Frost if you look at the alphabet and it's corresponding numbers.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 1:**

* * *

Hans had escaped to northern Italy. Somewhere near the famous lakes he decided to hide in one of the houses he had bought with the money he'd made killing people. Elsa couldn't really blame him for the location – in the woods yet with a grandiose outlook on the massive bodies of water far away and the feeling of multiple hundreds of feet of a cliff's free fall when you stand on the balcony.

All in all, it seemed like Hans had really bad luck – The Company ordered Elsa to strike within 12 hours of a storm. A storm so strong that half the region was without electricity. Everything was dead, including telephone, TV and internet. However, with the upcoming Ski World Cup, the various service providers did their best to satisfy their customers, and so fleets of electricians were charging from the centrals of such enterprises. But the rest of the electric services were still gone.

"_56\. Get the job done and get it done properly – asap. The safest way is through the garden. In case the garden fails, there's a balcony overlooking the lake. We have located the target on the second floor. Don't disappoint me. We meet in Paris in 3 day for the delivery of the package."_

The voice in her ear cut off – Her boss himself was overseeing this particular mission.

Elsa was hiding in a bush, close to the entrance gate of a very fancy mansion. Staying behind her cover, she carefully raised her head and looked at the building. It took her all but three days to find the mansion after her preparations.

She also decided to ditch her black skintight suit for a more formal attire. It was after all, an important mission – and her target was the only person she really could trust, so at least she could show him the respect to be dressed properly when she ended his life.

She stood up in her custom-tailored suit – it was a pain to find a good tailor in Graz and get him to tailor a suit for her in less than three days. It indeed took her a certain amount of...persuasion to get him to do it.

She brushed off her trousers which were slightly dirty from kneeing on dried earth.

With the dirt gone, it was a pristine black, same as the jacket - except for the latter's silk made inside of which was icy blue. The linen shirt that accompanied it was held in anthracite. Elsa also wore a necktie, the same color as freshly spilled blood. The tie was fastened with a tie clip, made from titanium and shaped like a snowflake – the only gift she only ever got. Her handler gave it to her after she completed her first solo-contract. He hoped that with the clip she'd have a reason to wear ties and subsequently, she'd start fancy suits, but she always resisted – she preferred the flexibility of her bodysuit and leggins since disguising herself was a lot easier that way.

Even though suits were more his style, she'd kept the tie pin.

Her new, shiny black low-heeled shows to go with her suit were rather comfortable for mass production. The last thing 56 did before silently heading towards the hedge separating the gardens of the house from the streets was to pull out two leather gloves from her pockets. While she, safe for a knife and her trusty piano string, didn't have any weapons with her, there still would be fingerprints on everything and everyone she touched. And fingerprints were the bane of all criminal success. Of course, The Company bribed everyone who might have a chance of revealing her or the other agent's identities, but better safe than sorry.

Standing in front of the hedge now, she estimated its height - roughly 10 feet. That alone wouldn't be a problem, however it was lined with security cameras approximately every 50 foot. There were no fences, no low-hanging branches or anything else to get enough hold on to scale the obstacle. Elsa ground her teeth. This might be troublesome.

Still, there had to be a way to enter the garden. She pressed her back flat against the brushes when she heard voices approaching. They belonged to two of the guards and were headed for the gate that cut off the estate from the surrounding world. The gate which was opening right now.

"_...ow anything about him either. Kinda mysterious, as if he's being hunted"_

As fast and as silent as possible, Elsa moved away – she'd surely be caught by the guards if she stayed where she was. However, she still stayed in earshot to the men. Which proved to be a good call as it turned out a few seconds later.

"_Well, we ain't supposed to know the details, we're paid to protect Mr. Fancypants and that girl. By the way, when's that electrician s'pposed to arrive? Mansion without any security cams isn't all that great.."_

Elsa smiled slyly to herself. Why, thank you for the information buddy. That's too convenient to be true.

His colleague grunted. _"Mark, as if you'd care about the cams, you just don't wanna miss the World Cup."_

"_Pff, c'mon. I say he's nuts. Whatever's his problem can't be such a tough nut to break. Seriously, what's he done? Mocked the Mafia?"_

"_Whatever he's done, it doesn't matter. And would you look at that, the electrician's coming."_

From her hideout around the corner of the gate she glanced at the men. They were waving their arms at an approaching van and shouting profanities at the driver. _"Hey asshole, we can't do our job since you're too __retarded__ to change gears on this sorry excuse for a car."_

The driver barked something in heavy accent laden English from inside the Van before slowing down to a crawl and coming closer to the men. The three of them started to argue about the electrician's delay, his mother and the World Cup.

With the three of them distracted and engulfed in their exchange of scurrilousness, the hitman used her chance, sneaked along the hedge and slipped through the gate as fast as possible. The driver didn't seem to have seen her.

Upon her entrance, she instantly turned to the left to hide behind a tree. Which obviously had it's branches clipped not too long ago.

_Bet one of them would've worked as a way over the hedge. Hans' always been careful._

Once she was convinced that she was properly out of sight, Elsa re-orientated herself.

The closest entrance to the mansion itself was inside the garage – or to be more precise, a carport since it had no gate. However, even though it had no gate, it was a gamble to try and enter there since two men with forearms that would cause a young Schwarzenegger to blush were patrolling in front of it and one covered the side.

There was a second entrance to the mansion. She'd have to cross the garden and successfully sneak along the utmost right wall and then the building's wall itself for a fair bit. However, the use of this entrance was quite dangerous. The guards watching over the carport would see her if she tried to cross the garden – there was hardly any cover. To make matters worse, on the mansion's first floor she could see a guard patrolling along the large windows. One way or another, it was going to be difficult. Sure, she could wait until the electrician would drive his van inside the yard which would maybe cause enough of a distraction for her to get into a better position, but the risk was a great one.

Elsa raked her brain while looking up and inspecting the house more carefully. It's front was heavily guarded, but the side open to the mountains most likely wasn't – for the mere fact that no normal assassin would be as mental as to climb alongside a cliff where every misplaced foot or hand would mean certain death.

However, she was no normal assassin.

With a new idea sparking in her head, she looked at the hedge more carefully. It was solid and continuous... for the most part. Close to the end of the hedge's right side there was a gap, maybe just broad enough for her. She'd ruin her new suit most likely, but her mission's success was far more important.

But there was still the problem with crossing the garden. The sound of an engine being restarted came as a sound of salvation to her. Seemingly, the guards and the Italian technician stopped their quarrel. The door was still open and the van passed through, the two guards at the car's side.

As soon as the van came into sight, the concentration of the guards wavered just the tiny bit Elsa needed. She jogged along the hedge, careful not to put too much weight on her steps. Just in time before the commotion ended she could hide behind a rather large bush. The hole in the hedge was within arm's reach. The hit man only had to wait for the guard's eagle eyes to pass on from his position on the first floor. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he turned away. The same second, Elsa sprinted to the whole and crawled through it.

There she was now, standing on a tiny ledge, barely wide enough for her to place her feet on.

She swallowed hard, pressed her back against the somewhat solid hedge and slowly shuffled towards the house. She sincerely hoped the balcony wasn't on the other side of the house, else she'd be in deep shit.

The closer she moved to the house, the wider the ledge became thankfully, allowing for her steps to be more confident and safer. However, she stopped dead in her tracks – yet again, a guard was talking, this time on the phone.

"_What! You're kiddin'... A-Are you sure? It's not prostate cancer? Haha, I COULD KISS YOU! That's great news, you made my day. I thought I was a goner. Doc, I gotta run, duty calls, and thank you so much. Yeah, you have a nice day too! Yeah, bye!"_

The guard quit the call, turned around and said to no one in particular _"Wou, no-one can piss on this day!"_

_Lucky guy. Be glad I don't have to kill you._

The guard walked down to the other end of the balcony, taking a moment to himself to properly realize what good news he'd just received. Elsa used this opportunity to leap over the balcony's railing. She cushioned the impact as silently as possible The entrance to the house was to her left. The assassin couldn't resist but to admire the stylish presentation of the balcony – the floor was laid out with light brown wood, there were multiple potted plants standing around and, overlooking the vast lake, was a seat arrange consisting of comfy looking wicker furniture.

She looked back to the door - which was locked with a magnetic card. Elsa sighed to herself.

_Sorry prostate-cancer-guy, but you're going to go to sleep for a while._

She sneaked up to the unsuspecting guard and, when she was sure he didn't hear her, she raised her right arm, built up movement and smacked his right temple. She felt the impact on the side of her palm and when he didn't make a sound, she knew she'd succeeded - the tall man collapsed in an instant.

_Glad I didn't forgot how to do it._

He hit the ground. She wrapped her arms around his chest and pulled him towards the furniture. Elsa shoved him up one of the couches and arranged his body to give the impression he was sleeping. Next, she snatched the magnetic card from the inside pockets of his jacket, stood up and walked over to the door to unlock it.

She pressed her back against the wall opposite of the entrance and carefully looked around the corner to see more of the house. The inside of the mansion was, simply put, amazing. Hans really was a man of taste. Beige painted walls provided a nice contrast to the terracotta floor and the dark wood furniture she could see. The rooms were flooded with sunlight streaming in through half-open, huge windows.

She saw expensive looking windows and tactically placed exotic plants.

_At least Hans dies in a good place._

Getting her attention back to relevant elements, she noticed stairs leading up to the first floor. However, one guard was watching the antechamber with eagle eyes. Elsa was pretty much trapped in the small room behind the door. She could simply wait until the guard had to turn away, but she didn't know how long prostate-cancer-guy outside was out cold. Looking around, she discovered that she was in the room responsible for all the electronics. She could see the screens connected to half the surveillance cameras being black and saw two dozen different switches and buttons. Elsa had received some basic training in disabling various electronics, but the whole area of electronics wasn't one she was comfortable with.

_Let's give it a shot._

Swallowing, she hushed to the tables where all the electronic witchcraft was being controlled. Looking down at the buttons, she looked for something that might work as distraction.

_Surveillance cameras, air condition... No, if I turn that up they will all come by here to reach the balcony – or open the windows... ventilation... They will open the windows and that's it. Huh, this might work. And also this to make the confusion perfect._

She pressed two buttons – one caused the shutter to raise, letting in more sunlight – most likely to a blinding degree since it was quite bright outside – in fact, you wouldn't believe a storm had ravaged the area just a few hours ago. And the second one activated all fire sprinklers on the ground-and first floor.

Not two seconds after she hushed away from the buttons, voices of surprise and confusion could be heard – it worked. She threw a glance around the corner and across the antechamber where the guard keeping watch was now shielding his eyes from the blazing sunlight while doing an amusing dance in order to evade the cold shower.

She took her chance and ran for the stairs, as silent as her shoes allowed it. Taking two steps at a time, she reached the first floor. Most of it was open space, cut off by a crescent-shaped railing. On each end of the crescent, there was a door. Quickly orientating herself, she mentally projected a plan of the mansion from what she'd seen on the outside. If she'd take the left door, she'd be in one of the rooms above the garage – including the one with the guard she'd seen earlier.

She moved to the right door and unlocked it with the guard's card – or so she thought.

From blow, she could hear somebody, most likely a higher-in-command, shout.

"_Jesus, where's that chief when you need 'im. Can't take that long for a fucking phone talk. Hey Pjotr, go get him, he knows how to turn off those crappy sprinklers!"_

Elsa couldn't resist a triumphant smile – having the head of security out of the way made things easier.

The room behind the door exposed itself as the stairway to the second floor. It was, like the rest of the house, pretty stylish and led to an open-air walkway. The view was breathtaking, but Elsa had no time for this.

At the end of the walk way, she knew, was her target.

As she moved to the door, all of a sudden, she was nervous. Every step seemed to take forever and her breathing became uneven. She hadn't been nervous since her first solo-contract. She wasn't allowed to be nervous. Nervousness was a sign of mental weakness and unreliability in her trade. Assassins working for The Company needed to be machines when on the job, devoid of any feelings. She broke that rule constantly by having a feeling of triumph when she outsmarted her enemies. But feeling triumphant and being tense were two different things entirely.

One of her instructors, when he wasn't drilling her with punches and kicks told her that only sadistic pleasure was barely acceptable but unwanted. Things like compassion or sorriness about the deed were ways to get yourself into the grave fast. But Hans was different. She knew she wasn't going to be herself on the job, I was going to be different. She was going to be herself.

Finally, she stood in front of the door after what felt like an eternity. Before she could reach out and turn the knob, she could hear Hans' voice from inside.

"_Why hello Elsa. It's open, come on in."_

Of course he knew when she'd be there. He was her handler, her sniping-instructor and her only friend. Hans alone could read her.

She took a breath, turned the knob and walked into the room. It was his private chamber, office and bedroom at the same time. It was a beautiful room. Light maroon colored walls smoothly collided with ivory colored floor and furniture. Only the bedclothes the desk and the leather office chair were dark, almost black.

The chair turned around and in it sat Hans, tumbler filled with a brown liquid in hand. He wore a suit that fit him to a T, black cloth for the jacket and pants. The shirt was a light grey and the tie was the same green color as his eyes, contrasting but not offensively so with his hair and sideburns.

Her target looked up at her and nodded.

"_Nice suit. I always knew suits fit you well."_

Elsa wasn't even surprised he was so relaxed. He stood up, walked to a commode behind the desk and poured some liquid in a second glass.

"_Care to join me for a drink? This scotch... God it's good."_

She replied coldly, or as cold as she could. _"You know I don't drink."_

Hans looked at her, sat down back in his chair and almost laughed._ "Frost, you look like you need it more than I do. __Kid you nod, you look more nervous than back then when you killed your first target alone. What was her name again? By the way, take a seat please."_

She took him up on his offer. She had no cameras on her so she could pretend it took longer than it should when her superiors lashed out on her – which they were going to either way.

"_Andrea Fitzgeralt. Stole 50 Million quid from the company she was working for and her bosses weren't pleased."_

He leaned back and smiled at the memory as if it was something good and not murder. _"Right, I remember. Clean shot through the head."_ He leaned forward again. _"So, you're here to kill me. I'm glad it's you, 56."_

Elsa leaned forwards. _"Hans. Why did you betray us?"_

He took a sip from his glass and savored the taste before answering.

"_Straight to the point as usual. Short long story – The "thing" our -your-dear boss wants to have back is no object, it's a girl. A girl with extraordinary potential for becoming one of our trade. And also – my sister. I knew I had a sister but I cut off contact to my family when I joined The Company. To make it short, my parents died and the girl, Anna, was getting dumped in some random children's home._

_Now, I was stupid. Six years ago, I let her name slip when I was hammered and out with my own handler, a devoted agent. Her name slipped and not twenty-four hours later, I saw her in the... training center. I managed to convince them to let me train her in at least some subjects, but I couldn't really stop them from abusing and slowly breaking her. Call me a wuss, but I didn't want her to suffer like you did."_

He took a large gulp of the booze and sucked in air while the alcohol burnt down his gullet before continuing.

"_And last year, I was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer. So, I decided to screw it all, take Anna from The Company, escape and have you kill me – I much prefer to die at your hands than suffer from cancer for which there is no cure at this point."_

Hans finished his drink and slammed the glass on the table.

Elsa took a moment to absorb all the new information before she realized a flaw in his plan.

"_Sounds dandy and all. But what about that girl?"_

He put his elbows on the table, clasped his hand together and laid his chin on them before smiling at her.

"_You're gonna take care of her."_

"_I'll deliver her back to The Company, that's my mission, so yeah, I take care of her for now."_

His smile broadened._ "You don't understand me. You WON'T give her back to The Company. You will take care of her, protect her and kill everyone who lays a hand on her."_

Elsa was dumbfounded. _"You realize what you ask of me?"_

He leaned back, snuggled his back in the warm leather. _"Why yes, I do. You will be with her for a few days. You will see so much in her that you were back when I took you under my wing. I know you, you will protect her __since you don't want her to suffer like you did__."_

She didn't reply. His audacity, his believe in her made her speechless.

"_By the way, I have a present for you."_ He pulled something out his desk drawer and put it on the table. It was a briefcase. Hans opened it and turned it around. A single gun was in it, complete with silencer It was black as the night, befitting the owner's name.

"_My gun. Used it for all my up-close jobs. And I want you to use it on me."_

He took the gun out, kissed side of it and handed it over to Elsa.

She swallowed hard and looked at the cold steel in her hand.

"_But before you do the deed..."_ He grabbed a mobile radio and turned it on. _"Hey guys, it's me. You're dismissed. A friend of mine was testing you and you failed. She's taking the girl with her, we played some sort of treasure hunt. Leave my property now, please. Thank you."_

He put the device down. _"Oh, one more thing – catch!"_ Elsa looked at him in confusion while catching the object he threw at her. _"You're gonna need a ride. And I love my Aston too much to let it rust here. Now..."_ Hans stood up, walked to the window left of his desk and waited there, looking over the lake. "...kill me. You have to."

Elsa raised the gun but hesitated. "I don't."

"_You do. In less than two hours there's gonna be an army of agents coming to check if I'm really dead. If I'm not, you will be by tomorrow. They will catch you. And those are not the nice kind of assassins that simply kill you – they will do terrible things to you, torture and rape you before they finally end it. I don't think you want that."_

Elsa sighed in defeat. He had good points. She raised the gun until the barrel was pointing at his head. He flashed one last grin at her. _"Thank you. Good luck. See you on the other side."_

/

xxx

\

"_A room for two please."_

The clerk behind the counter looked up at the blonde and the redhead.

"_How long?"_

"_One night, we'll be en route tomorrow morning."_

"_Your names?"_

"_Clara and Emily Burnwood."_

He nodded and handed her a key. _"5__th__ floor, last door on the right, room service and bar are extra. Have a nice stay, Miss Burnwood."_

The two young women walked to the lift. They stayed in a somewhat luxurious hotel that didn't cause suspicion having an Aston Martin standing in the parking lot.

Not a single word had been spoken between Anna and Elsa during the entire ride – or even before. Not when Elsa opened the door, grabbed Anna and an already prepared suitcase and walked out of the house. Not when Anna started to cry as soon as the car set off. Not when they stopped for something to eat.

The lift arrived on the fifth floor. Taking Anna's hand in her own and snatching the case, she all but stormed out of the elevator towards their room. She unlocked the door and opened it, pulling the other girl and her belongings in the room with her. Elsa locked the door and put the keys away before directing her first words ever at Anna.

"_Help me look for cameras. And don't think about bunking off, it won't do you any good. I have no trouble tying you up."_ The younger girl slowly moved and started to look.

The next half hour was spent in silence except for the sounds of digging through shelves and curtains. When she was certain there were no cameras, Elsa met up with her captive (or protege...) in the living room.

"_I'm going to take a shower. You turn on the TV, sit in front of it and don't move until I'm back. You do speak Italian already?"_ Anna nodded slowly _"Great. Then you even understand what they're saying."_

Elsa entered the bathroom. She took off her suit and carefully placed it aside to prevent it from getting wet. Once she was undressed, she stepped into the shower and turned the water on – cool, as she preferred it. While the liquid was sliding down her skin, she raked her brain.

_Ok, calm down. Treat her neutral for now. But then... Shit. God damn it Hans! What the hell were you thinking?! I can't babysit your sister. But I can't turn against The Company either. I'm good, really good at killing people. But I have no idea how long I could keep up being on the run. They'd cut off my bank accounts, my medical records, my entire existence if I chose to turn on them. But If I bring her back, I'll defy Hans' dying wish and expose her to a world of suffering I struggled to make it through. And she seems to be a lot more emotional than me, she would snap. Hans you son of a bitch, why did you appeal to my soft heart._

She sighed.

_What am I supposed to do?_

* * *

**A/N:**  
Took me forever, I know. I'm terribly sorry about that. As some sort of compensation, this chapter is at least pretty long.

So, things turned out predictable to those who played Hitman:Absolution (as Memnonic pointed out, yes, I take a strong influence in Hitman games) but for those who haven't, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Also, yes, there's another slight reference when they check in.

I know it's, well, cheesy, but I suck at writing dialogue, you surely have noticed this in case you're reading TNATFN or my first pitiful attempt at FanFiction, Frozen Heat.

An error I want to correct – the V12 of an Aston Martin V12 Vantage, the car that I decided to have Hans drive revs up to only 6850 RPM since it shares the DBS' engine. Sorry about that fail in the last chapter, bad research there.

So, with that said, enjoy it, stay tuned and show me some love with that review box.

Saro


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